


Beautiful Scars

by tinypinkmouse



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-10
Updated: 2010-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 00:50:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/106404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinypinkmouse/pseuds/tinypinkmouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are things Dean shouldn't want, because it's wrong. So very wrong. And that's why he'd never ask. Too bad Cas is an angel and knows anyway. Too bad Cas would do anything for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Scars

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write explicit sex scenes (I'm not very good at it and it makes me feel uncomfortable), but sometimes a story takes me to a place where I think there should be one. This is an attempt at learning. No redeeming qualities, it's just sex and no plot. And definitely more violence than I'd planned, the sex was supposed to be a bit rough, but it went way beyond what I was aiming for.
> 
> This reads a lot like non-con at first, but it isn't.

"Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones." ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

  
A hand wrapped around Dean's throat moments before his back slammed into the dirty brick wall. His head snapped back and met the wall hard enough that the impact seemed to echo through his skull. He gasped and tried to see through the black spots swimming in his vision, for some reason he couldn't seem to get enough air.

It was more instinct than anything else that made him buck against the grip holding him back. It was instinct that made his hands scrabble at the immovable grip around his throat.

He was pulled a few inches away from the wall and for a moment Dean was hanging in the air held up only by the hand squeezing his throat. He couldn't breath at all, his own hands futilely gripping an unmovable wrist. Then he slammed into the wall again, a jolt of pain flying through his already aching body, head bouncing against the bricks again in a way that made him briefly think of concussions.

His feat kicked uselessly against the wall.

He couldn't fucking breath. He tugged at the unmoving hand that was squeezing his breath away.

Dean's arms felt heavy and the black spots were getting bigger.

Breath came in sweet, painful gasps. He tried to lean forward finally feeling solid ground under his feet, but a firm arm across his throat held him back, pushed him against the wall. For a moment he could feel the flow of air to his lungs being cut off.

Dean froze. The pressure lessened, let him breath again.

After a moment he blinked his eyes open, meeting the intense blue gaze in front of him. He felt himself shiver as those blue eyes looked at him. As they looked inside him. It didn't take long before they found whatever they were looking for.

There was no time to react as he was suddenly flipped around and his now naked front collided with the wall. The impact wasn't as violent as earlier, but it still managed to send new bursts of pain through his already battered body. Dean gasped, but choked down the pained moan that tried to escape.

Blood rushed to his dick fast enough that it left him reeling. Either that or it was the pain making him feel faint.

A hand pressed down between his naked shoulder blades, pinning him against the wall. Dean knew that struggling wouldn't help, knew that he would be more likely to bend steel with his bare hands than get that hand to move if its owner didn't want it to. The hand pressed into his back a bit firmer, pushing him against the wall hard enough to hurt.

"Please," he breathed out, not quite sure what he was asking. Not wanting to think about what he was asking.

The hand pressed harder. Dean's skin scraped uncomfortably against harsh brick, already bruised ribs creaked under the pressure. His painfully hard dick was trapped between himself and the wall.

This time he couldn't hold back the pained groan.

He forced his too tense muscles to relax. Forced himself to ignore every hard earned hunter instinct screaming at him to do something. Swallowed his own instinct to open his mouth and say something that would end up with even more pain.

The hand fell away.

Dean's forehead fell softly against the dirty bricks. He closed his eyes and didn't move. The moment stretched out. Somewhere in the distance he could hear traffic, people, everyday life. Here there was quiet and he was leaning naked against a dirty brick wall his erection scraping uncomfortably against that dirty wall, his own breaths harsh and fast and too loud in his ears.

Then an arm pressed into his back, pushed him against the wall, making the pain in his ribs flare slightly. The arm felt softer, more human than earlier. Gave the illusion that he could have done something, that he could fight back.

He bit back a whimper and couldn't help himself from bracing his arms against the wall and pushing back, leaning backwards, trying to make that arm yield. It turned as rigid as stone. There was no give at all.

He felt the hard, blunt tip of an erection poke at his asshole and he had just enough time to realise what was going to happen before the dick was pushed into his hole slowly.

A strangled yell escaped him before he managed to bite down on his lip to keep himself quiet. There was a dick pushing it's way into his ass and it fucking well hurt. His muscles tightened at the intrusion, making the pain worse. He was being split open with an inhumanly steady slowness. He wanted to pull away or push back, get it over with already, anything but this agonising, slow burning pain.

He couldn't move at all, pinned against the hard brick wall and the equally unyielding body behind him. He wanted to yell, scream, beg… anything. And all he could feel was the hot burning flashes of pain radiating from his ass.

His forehead met the brick wall with a thump and he hardly noticed the jolt of pain in his already aching head. A giggle burst through his lips, around the teeth clenched around his bottom lip. _Stuck between a rock and a hard place._

He could taste copper on his tongue.

There wasn't any stopping the small whimpers and moans that escaped from behind his clenched teeth. Slipped out from between his bloody lips.

It felt like forever before he felt balls press against hiss ass, before he had a dick buried hilt deep inside him. That's when the god damned bastard stopped. Just fucking froze and wouldn't move and Dean was trapped between two fucking unmoving brick walls.

Pain kept radiating out from his ass, but he was adjusting to it enough that he was starting to notice everything else hurting again. The pain from his aching ribs, the throbbing from his head and the soreness from his throat that he could still feel with every damn shuddering breath he forced himself to take.

If something else was hurting he didn't really notice anymore.

Still the asshole just refused to move. He'd probably be content to stand there with his dick buried in Dean's ass until someone fucking died of old age. Because the damned fucker just wasn't human.

"Please," Dean heard his own voice whimper. "I can't… please."

He could feel a tear roll down his cheek.

Fingers softly brushed away the wetness. The sweet fucking tenderness of the gesture made him let out a strangled, broken little noise.

Then finally, finally he moved. The pain in Dean's ass flared and he hadn't fucking well adjusted to it at all. It was still too slow, but at least a human slow now, not the barely moving at all slow of before.

Dean was still too tight and it felt like there was no way that dick could move inside him, felt like his ass was clenched so tight around it that it was stuck there.

Sweet, holy _fuck_ it hurt.

Then the dick slammed back into him, faster now, sliding out smoother than earlier and he knew he was bleeding. That it was his blood making his passage slick.

Dean gasped when that unforgiving hardness hit his prostate, pleasure mixing in with the almost unbearable pain.

The pace kept picking up steadily, the dick pulling almost completely out of Dean's ass before slamming all the way back inside, hitting his prostrate every time, sending bolts of pain and pleasure shooting through him with every hard, unforgiving thrust. Dean's trapped dick strained against the grimy wall, the hard surface scraping against the tender flesh painfully.

"Please," Dean sobbed. "Please." He was too far gone to even care what he was pleading for. "Please." A ragged, broken sound.

The thrusts became shorter, faster. Dean's dick felt like it was being rubbed raw against the brick wall.

His muscles spasmed and he threw his head backwards, hitting a solid shoulder. Dean screamed as he came so fucking hard he saw stars, his dick spurting its load over his stomach and the grimy brick wall before everything went black.

***

The first thing he noticed was that everything hurt like hell and it took him a moment to register the fact that someone was holding him, carrying him in their arms like some chick. It didn't take much longer to realise that he was naked.

Then the memories caught up with him, slamming back into his head with force. He groaned and opened his eyes slowly.

"Cas?" He croaked, his throat feeling dry and sore.

Intense blue eyes looked down at him. He felt something inside him clench painfully at the deep sadness he could see in those beautiful blue eyes. Someone whimpered brokenly, and Dean realised horrified that the sound had come from him.

Castiel didn't say anything as he quietly, gently lay him down on a bed. Blinking Dean realised that Cas had transported him to Dean's motel room, with it's ugly floral pattern wallpapers and it's single uncomfortable bed.

The blanket was draped over him carefully.

Castiel's hand seemed to twitch towards his head, two fingers held out in a familiar gesture. Cas stopped himself even before Dean shook his head sharply, the motion making bright sparks dance in his vision.

The sadness in Cas' blue eyes became even deeper, even if his expression remained blank. Dean ached inside and it had nothing at all to do with his abused body.

"Later," he whispered his promise and closed his eyes so that he didn't need to look at the tentative hope in his angel's face.

_I'm so fucking sorry Cas._ He felt like he was choking on the words he couldn't say, on all the things he couldn't say.

A hand touched his shoulder, fingers slotting into place over the handprint there. Dean made himself stay still. A moment passed quietly, heavy with unspoken words and quiet meaning.

Cas pulled his hand away.

"Goodnight Dean," the gravely voice was as calm as ever.

A rustle of feathers and Dean knew he was alone.


End file.
